


It's Your Funeral

by house_of_ennui



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Attempted Murder, Bisexual Heather Chandler, Bisexual Veronica Sawyer, Drama, Heather Chandler Being an Asshole, Heather Chandler Lives, High School, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Multi, Murder, Polyamory, Sharing a Boyfriend, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Threesome - F/F/M, high school intrigue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 09:36:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20889977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/house_of_ennui/pseuds/house_of_ennui
Summary: When Heather Chandler isn't stupid enough to drink drain cleaner, she joins JD and Veronica's reindeer games. (Heather C./JD/Veronica shipping)





	1. It's Your Funeral

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever posting to ao3, caused by an idea that refused to leave my brain. Detail-wise, I plan on drawing from both the film and the musical. Obviously the plot will deviate wildly eventually, but for this, the dialogue is almost word-for-word from the film. Also I have no idea where this is going or where it will end, so I apologize in advance. Enjoy!

Heather Chandler slept like she was ready for a photo shoot at any minute. Her short, silky nightgown and matching robe draped over her curves, and she was posed elegantly on top of her covers. One long, tanned leg crossed over the other, toes pointed, and her back was even arched under a pillow. Her lips were parted in a "kiss me now, you fool!" come-hither expression. Veronica couldn't help but be impressed by the display as she entered the room, JD as silent as a shadow behind her, with Heather's morning puke-fest drink. Even completely alone, Heather had a way of commanding attention. The only indication that she was even asleep was the deep, steady breathing, punctuated by a soft snore, and her distinctive red scrunchie, the symbol of her power, was haphazardly hanging from her ponytail.

Veronica and JD exchanged a look - her nervous, his anticipatory - before Veronica spoke up.

"Morning, Heather."

Awakening immediately, Heather sat up, and eyed them both, as if she had been expecting them and they were late. Even hungover, she was beautiful, but her voice was as icy and dismissive as it had been the night before. "Veronica." Eyes of intense blue scanned over to take in JD standing beside her. "And Jesse James. _Quelle surprise_. You brought Veronica's  _ affection  _ for  _ regurgitation _ ?" Veronica felt a sick, oily feeling crawl through her stomach, and she tried to smile through it.

"Heather, I think we both said a lot of stuff we didn't mean."

"...Did we. How the hell'd you get in here?" Heather was looking at JD now, and Veronica had to bite back a wicked grin. They'd not been immediately kicked out. Heather was officially hooked, she couldn't help her curiosity. JD's presence was too weird. The sound of Heather puking her guts out was going to be the sweetest music.

His reply was quick, affable. "Um, Veronica knew you'd have a hangover, so uh, I whipped this up for you, it's a family recipe," he said as he held out the mug. Heather's upper lip curled, she rolled her eyes. "What'd you do, put a phlegm globber in it or something? I'm not gonna drink that piss."

JD looked at Veronica, eyes squinted in disappointment. "Knew this stuff would be too intense for her." He shook his head, lowering the offered mug. Irritated now, Heather tugged the scrunchie from her ponytail, loosening her blonde curls. " _ Intense.  _ Grow up. Think I'll drink it just because you call me chicken?"

The two pranksters looked away, stifling giggles. Two pink circles flushed on Heather's cheeks as her lips tightened in anger, and she stood from her bed, the lace trim of her robe trailing the floor. "Just give me the cup, jerk." Jerk, for Heather, may as well have been please. Veronica raised a brow. The untouchable Heather Chandler, reduced to as close as Heather Chandler could ever get to begging. He gave her the cup, his expression clear.

_ It's your funeral. _

Heather brought the cup to her lips, tipping it back, and then before Veronica could register the result, the mug was violently thrown as if there had been a spider in it, the weight of it landing on her glass coffee table, shattering both in a loud crash. A glaze of blue was on Heather's lips, and Veronica had a crazy thought -  _ it's a weird lip gloss _ \- when Heather shoved past JD, knocking him back against Veronica, running to her bathroom to wipe off her lips and rinse out her mouth. "You crazy assholes!" She screeched around a mouthful of water, and after spitting into her sink, she stomped back in, her face red with fury. Veronica looked down, and in the mess of glass shards and broken porcelain, a pool of blue was leaking into Heather's valentine-red carpet.

"I said you were out, and you try to kill me? Are you actually psycho, you piece of shit?" Heather's robe was fluttering dramatically as she tried to reach Veronica, but JD wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping her manicure just out of reach from Veronica's cornea. Paralyzed, Veronica felt paralyzed, her mouth open in shock, and she looked at JD, who was staring blankly down at the broken mug. "JD...?" Veronica said, her voice soft, fearful.

Heather's beautiful face was contorted in confusion, rage, and fear, as she turned to look at JD, still strong-arming her away from fighting Veronica. "You tried to poison me? Get the fuck- Get the fuck off of me!" She screamed, shoving him away, which he didn't resist.

Veronica ran to Heather, tears brimming in her big brown eyes. "Heather, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't know-" She tried to reach for the blonde, but her hands were swatted away. "Don't _fucking_ touch me," she said through gritted teeth. Veronica was reduced to begging now, her hands clasped as if in prayer. "Heather, please don't call the cops, it was a stupid prank, just a stupid prank-" She was interrupted this time by a single raised finger.

"Shut. Up. Are you stupid? I'm not calling the cops," said Heather, and while her voice had recovered her usual crisp, authoritative tone, her arms were tightly wound around herself. "Get the hell out. I'll deal with you later," she said to Veronica. "Both of you, get out!"

JD, who'd been stuck on staring at the puddle of cleaner, that was now just a dark purplish stain on the carpet, seemed to snap out of it, looking at the two girls with a curiously blank expression, and he hurried out behind Veronica, making eye contact with Heather as he left. To both girls, he seemed strangely bewildered by what had happened.

The force of the door shutting behind them ruffled a stray curl of Heather's hair, and now that she was alone, she let out a single shuddering breath, then straightened up, lowering her arms, her fingers curling and flexing. Her emergency bottle of vodka beneath her bed was calling, and maybe after a shot or two, she could plan her next move.


	2. Death and the Maiden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because the source material of Heathers takes place in the 80's, characters may use language that will be offensive to some readers. I'll include more specific content warnings for each chapter from now on. These language choices do not reflect my feelings or morals.
> 
> CW: casual use of the r-word.

The Chandlers lived in what JD’s dad would call a “fuck-off mansion” a house so grand and overstylized that it was only designed to invite envy and anger from neighbors, a big extended middle finger with a marble finish. It was nestled in a neighborhood full of other such houses, and it was an ongoing contest to see who could have the greener lawn, the more artfully trimmed hedges, the more tasteful statuary on display. All the sprinklers would go off at the same time, a chorus of _chk-chk-chk-chk_ every morning and night. JD hated them, wanted to run muddy tracks through their lawns with his motorbike, splatter it on their windows. It didn’t matter that he lived in a house and a neighborhood almost exactly like this one. Like his father, though he’d kill himself before he’d admit it, they both saw the world nihilistically, only valuing what could be destroyed in the most magnificent fashion. Right now, it seemed a fitting mindset for an attempted murderer.

Heather Chandler - because her presence required a first-and-last-name introduction - had recovered from her assassination attempt. It was like it never even happened. She was now sitting at a table on her back deck, a tea set arranged before her, and garden flowers all around. It all felt so terribly performative - a picturesque tableau; beauty in youth, teatime on a sunday afternoon. The sunlight was hitting her bouncy curls just so, highlighting her cheekbones, the intensity of her cherry lip gloss. She was framed in red, her scrunchie ever-present in her hair, sitting with all the weight of a crown, and otherwise clad in a fuzzy scarlet sweater and crisp white pants. In comparison, JD felt like a spooky apparition, his leather duster coat cloaking him like the Grim Reaper. Heather sneered as he approached her. “Took you long enough. I thought I might have to call the cops after all.”

“I didn’t realize you were so excited to see me again,” JD said, sitting across from her, legs splayed in a devil-may-care display.

She rolled her eyes and reached for the pot, making a big show of pouring them both tea in delicate porcelain cups, sliding his across the frosted glass surface of the outdoor table. Clearing his throat, he sat up and inspected the cup. No off-color present, the tea just looked like tea. He brought it up to sniff.

“Oh, spare me. You think I’d kill you on my own property?” Heather snapped, picking up her cup and lifting it to her lips, draining it in steady gulps, firmly making eye contact the entire time. She sat back when finished, flinging the cup to land noisily beside its little plate, her face curled in disgust. “I hate tea.”

“Then why all this pomp and circumstance? Surely, you’ve got better things to do than entertain me, as entertaining as this is,” JD didn’t drink from his cup, and she seemed annoyed by it. Good. Anything to make this move along faster.

“You owe me a new coffee table.”

“Is that all, darlin’? You could’ve gotten that done with a phone call. Or was there some other reason you wanted me trampling through these nice lawns again?” He leered, his mouth spread in a grotesque smirk, to unsettle her. It only seemed to bore her.

She crossed her legs, got comfortable. We were getting to the conversation now, and she wanted to begin before she lost the upper hand. “Actually yes, I want to know what the fuck you were thinking with that stunt you pulled yesterday,” she said, her fingers meeting in a triangle over her lap, like a supervillain.

“That’s the thing, Heather, I don’t really think. I’m more of a doing man, myself.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious...as a heart attack.” JD held up his hand, scout’s honor. “I put the Big Blue in a cup, and then Veronica took the wrong cup. And I...let her. Couldn’t even tell you why. I didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to drink it.” A lie.

Heather put him under the gaze of her piercing stare. It was effective on both boys and girls at school, putting the fear of God into them, striking them to submission. Even though JD was too emotionally distant to care, he was still impressed by it.

“What if it’d worked, dumbass? You think you could get away with killing me?” An interesting question.

“Probably, yeah. Veronica’s really good at forgery, right? She could probably fake a suicide note.”

Heather’s expression broke, eyebrows lifting, and she chuckled. “Shit, that’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, I thought so, too. Shame it didn’t work out.” It was worth saying just to see her face, which returned to iciness. His grin was boyishly cute in response, which only seemed to piss her off more. _You’re so pretty when you’re angry_, is what he wanted to say next, but he swallowed it down. Flirting with Heather, even to annoy her, would be like prodding a coiled rattlesnake.

“Oh you’re so_ cool_, I can see why Veronica drools over you. Just so you know, being the most interesting boy at Westerburg is like being the smartest kid in the retard class. You’re just a new fish in her little pond, and her liking you doesn’t make you special.”

JD’s head tilted, an eyebrow arched. Well, this was interesting. Heather seemed so protective of Veronica, her little project. He didn’t like that.

“You know, I’ve been to a lot of schools, so many I honestly can’t remember. I’ve been bounced around the whole country. And my dear, there is a girl just like you in every. Single. One. Some_ bitch_,” - and here is where Heather visibly bristled - “that lords her popularity over everyone, who everyone fears and hates, but are too conditioned, too soft, to do anything about it. They all resent you, Heather. If you’d drank that blue, they’d cry at your funeral and laugh into their pillows. And then you’d be forgotten. I’m not going to kneel for you like everyone else, sweetheart.” By now he felt wild, slightly out of breath, his knuckles going white from the grip of his fists. Heather too, looked a little breathless at the outburst, staring up at him, and it was then he realized he was standing. He liked Heather looking up at him, afraid, all the smirks and sneers wiped away by simple shock.

The rev of someone starting a lawn mower the next yard over startled them both, and the tension dissipated, both kids exhaling.

JD nervously ran his fingers through his hair, sweeping it back, thudding back down into his seat. Heather was studying him, and he didn’t like it. “Anyway,” he said, his throat clearing uncomfortably. “You didn’t die. Another win for social darwinism. You live to rule another day.”

She nodded, now looking away thoughtfully. Musing, he suspected. He didn’t expect her to speak, but when she did, he was struck by her tone - the words came out not glazed with casual malice, but genuine curiosity.

“You must really like Veronica, huh?”

Was this a goddamn trick? He fidgeted. “Uh, yeah. I do. Obviously.”

“_Obviously_.” She tapped her fingertip against her lips. “Well then, we have a problem, don’t we? Because I never intended on really letting Veronica go. Like no duh, she’d have to be punished. I can’t have her humiliate me like that again. She doesn’t appreciate it yet, but she’s my masterpiece.”

“She hates you.”

“Am I supposed to care about that?”

“Do you care about anything?”

Heather scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. Of course I do. I care about staying alive, for one. You should’ve kept your mouth shut. I can forgive your blue booboo, but you _actually_ want to kill me. And I know you care about Veronica. You _cared_ that I made your _girlfriend_ feel bad. So let’s agree, you little psycho - I’ll be a little kinder to _our_ Veronica...no punishment, I won’t even yell at her, she’ll keep being blissfully popular and you’ll be right there with her. And in exchange, no more trying to kill me. Win-win?” She smiled then, pushing her chair back and standing, offering him her hand to shake, like they were politicians. He hated how pretty and smug she was.

JD stood too, and roughly caught her hand to shake, her soft, perfumed hand dwarfed slightly in his, and he felt her tremble, and gripped it harder. “Fine.”

“We’re in agreement, then. Bitchin'.” She jerked her hand away, wiping it on her pristine pants, and rolled her eyes. “Now get your dirty bike off my property, dickweed.” JD couldn’t get away fast enough, but before he could step off the patio, Heather spoke again, even though she’d already gotten the last word.

“See you at school!”


	3. Lipstick

Veronica could not feel the ground beneath her as she walked through the halls of Westerburg. Everything registered as blurs, sound was muffled by rushing blood through her head, the squeak of sneakers on linoleum, the careless slam of metal lockers, was the only thing breaking through the rapid thud of her heart beat. After she and her boyfriend had almost killed her best friend, she’d needed time alone. JD’s comforting arms felt like a straight jacket afterwards, as she submitted to a hug from him when he dropped her off. “We can fix this,” he whispered to her, kissing her temple. She didn’t know what he meant by that, and she didn’t want to know. 

Beyond the existential worries though, she really didn’t know where to go now. Who did she belong to? In the hallways before school, the Heathers were usually occupying the girls’ room next to the gym, because it had a window. They pushed and bullied out any stragglers, and then used that time to sneak one last cigarette before first period, catch up on gossip, touch up on makeup, and for Heather Duke, upchuck her breakfast. Was Veronica supposed to go there? Or was she going to join Betty Finn and Martha Dunnstock with what passed for friends in the band room, like old times? But a bright voice called to her, and she felt a slim arm slip through hers, and Heather McNamara steered her past the dark hallway that led to the music department, instead pulling her towards the gym. A tiny, yellow-clad angel was saving her. Heather M. chattered on about nonsense - Kurt and Ram’s new favorite prank, cheerleading practice, and Veronica gave numb, one-word answers until she couldn’t stand to exchange pleasantries any longer.  


“Heather, uh...how’s Heather today? Did she say anything to you?” 

Heather’s button nose wrinkled in thought. “I don’t know, she does seem kinda weird.”

“Weird? Weird how?” 

Heather shrugged. “Like, she’s usually pretty bossy but today she’s like, not. It’s kinda nice. She’s not exactly in a _good_ mood, but she’s not in a bad mood either. Just quiet.”

Heather Chandler wasn’t quiet. Even when she wasn’t speaking, she often had a way of making her thoughts known, sometimes even with casual acts of violence. Heather Duke constantly had scuffed up knee socks from where she’d been kicked in the shin because she was in Heather’s way. The sound of her shoes clicking down the hall was a threat, and she didn’t discriminate. So the idea of a subdued Heather Chandler was interesting. More than that, Heather McNamara was being nice to Veronica, and she wouldn’t do that if she’d been given the order to ice Veronica out. So maybe...well, it was stupid to wish for, but Veronica wished anyway - that maybe Heather’s near-death experience had triggered her into kindness. 

This naive optimism didn’t last long, as McNamara thoughtlessly said, “Anyway, Heather said she wanted to talk to you before the bell. Alone.” 

Veronica wanted to object, but Heather was already knocking on the ladies’ bathroom door, and Heather Duke was stepping out. She looked glum, as usual. Heather Duke’s face was always in a perpetual state between boredom and sadness. It actually worked on her, her eyes half-lidded in a kind of sexy way. The side of her cheek bulged with what Veronica knew was a peppermint, to disguise her puke breath. When Veronica had first been brought into the Heathers, she’d tried reaching out to Duke, trying to empathize, to be a good friend and be sympathetic to her bulimia. That effort had been met with vicious sneers and mockery, and since then the two girls didn’t really make an effort to seem like friends. The only thing they had in common was they were both obsessed with Heather Chandler. Everyone was.

“Hey Heather,” said Heather. “Heather’s waiting for you, Veronica. She won’t tell me what you did, but I know you did something. She won’t talk about the party at all.”

“Gosh Heather, you don’t have to look so happy about it. I’ll go talk to Heather, I’m sure it’s...it’s nothing.” 

Both Heathers looked like they wanted to say something, but Veronica dodged their probing and ducked into the bathroom. She had to spare her energy for Chandler.

A lit cigarette was idling on the window ledge, smoke still wafting up from the glowing tip, waiting for Heather to pick it up again and finish. But first, she had to fix her lipstick. A crayon of bright red was being glided on Heather’s perfect lips, leaving a sticky, shiny finish, as she rubbed her lips together and made them pop. “Veronica.” Heather never bothered with traditional greetings. 

“Good morning, Heather. You wanted to see me?” 

“Yes! I wanted to make sure you were ready to spend time with us today.” She still wasn’t looking directly at Veronica, just gazing at her through the wide mirror. “You’re...dressed okay.”

“Uh...I thought you were kicking me out.” 

“As if! I was trying to scare you, duh. If I wanted you out, you’d be out. Keep up.”

“...Okay.” Veronica sighed in relief. “That’s good to hear. And again, I’m really sorry-”

Heather shook a finger at her while she reached up to the window to get her cigarette. “We don’t have to talk about last weekend. I accept your stupid apology, okay? Do you feel better now?” She stood with a cocked hip, inhaling and then exhaling, cigarette perched between two fingers. Even smoking in a high school bathroom, Heather Chandler looked like a movie star. 

Veronica nodded. 

“Good. Now stop talking about it. We don’t need that dumb shit getting out.” Her lips made a red ring around the cigarette paper. 

“So...that’s it? We’re going to ignore it?”

Heather took her last exhale, and then dropped the cigarette to stamp it out with her toe, kicking it behind her. Armed with the lipstick tube, she approached Veronica. This wasn’t unusual, but it always made Veronica slightly uncomfortable, to be under Heather’s appraising gaze, watching her take inventory of her look. Red lacquered nails slightly scratched Veronica’s skin as Heather grabbed ahold of her chin, making her tilt her head up. 

“Oh poor sweet Veronica,” said Heather, using the lipstick on her, spreading it over Veronica’s lips. “You think I’m just going to_ ignore_ something like that? I can forgive you, but I sure as shit won’t forget. Your ass is mine now...way more than before. You owe me for eternity, got it?” Up close, Heather smelled like hairspray, perfume, and cigarettes, and underneath all that, something else Veronica could never identify. Sex, she supposed. It was a heady mixture. 

Heather had Veronica pinned against the counter as she did her makeup, and Veronica could feel Heather’s thigh lightly press between her legs. She swallowed, to keep her voice from trembling. 

“Yes, Heather.”

A wicked smile curled on her scarlet lips, and she eventually backed off, leaving Veronica with her knees slightly buckled. Heat buzzed between her legs, and she could feel herself blushing hard. Everyone felt this way when Heather Chandler got close, right?

At the sight of her, Heather giggled. “Christ, Veronica. You’re way too easy.” 

Coming slowly out of her fog, Veronica managed to say, “I know how this works, Heather. You’re going to make me break up with JD, aren’t you? Is that the price?” 

Heather blinked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, her voice sickly sweet. “JD’s certainly the most _interesting_ thing to happen to Westerburg in awhile, don’t you think? So no, you don’t have to dump him. In fact…” Heather collect her things, tossing them lazily in her bookbag, slinging it over her shoulder. “We should all hang out sometime.” She laughed then, a beautiful, horrible sound, and breezily walked past Veronica to burst out of the bathroom, just as the bell was ringing. 


	4. Scanners

Things...went on like usual, at least for a couple weeks. It felt, to Veronica, how it must feel for kids with divorced parents - her time felt perfectly split between Heather Chandler and her boyfriend, JD. They seemed jealous of each other. Every time she and JD went on a date, Heather would demand her presence the next day for shopping, a movie, a sleepover. One evening she’d be curled up with JD in his car, his hand working his way to her bra while they made out lazily in her driveway, and the next she’d be sitting in Heather’s massive TV room, the screen’s brightness obnoxious in the dark, and Heather would be sleeping against her shoulder, a can of Tab threatening to fall from her hand. 

Her unease around JD had lasted only a couple days. Whatever she’d seen in his eyes that day he’d almost killed Heather, she hadn’t seen it since. And he was just so...so unlike anything else in her life. He was smart, cynical, and he spoke to her like she was the only other person on earth that could reach his level. His attention was intoxicating, he was so beautiful she could cry, and more than that, he was showing her more and more of himself all the time. Sometimes she’d make him laugh and he’d crack a smile so genuine it made her heart break. Her resolve dissolved easily when he kissed her, which was often. Also, they’d started having sex a lot, and Veronica totally understood now why people got addicted to it. Sometimes, often, she needed it more than he did, demanding more from him, and under her hips, JD was coaxed into giving her the roughness she needed, craved. 

“You are a wild woman,” he groaned into her shoulder, before smattering kisses on her skin. Spent, Veronica dismounted and flopped next to him on his bed, catching her breath. She chuckled shakily. “Holy cow, look at my legs,” she said, gesturing down. “They won’t stop twitching.” They both giggled and eased into a spooning position, JD behind her, wrapping her in his arms. 

“You know, if you keep this up, I might have to marry you,” he said, nuzzling into her hair, making her smile. Not that she’d had a lot of experience before, but this was the easiest relationship she’d ever had. Sure, he was complex, misanthropic, with an unpredictable undercurrent of mommy issues. But she also never doubted that he loved her, he wouldn’t let her. He spoke casually about love, fate. They were a foregone conclusion, he said. Destiny. There were no games, and Veronica never felt like she had to cautiously gauge his interest like with other boys. Her whole life, getting a boyfriend was like feeding squirrels from her hand, keeping still, gradually placing treats closer and closer, until you tricked them into eating from your palm. JD was like being chosen by a cat everyone said was unfriendly. She didn’t know if they were going to get married or not, but it was nice to hear. “Mmm,” was her reply. He suddenly tensed, and then leapt up from bed, excited. 

“By the way, this weekend, I’ve ah, got a movie we can watch,” he looked over his shoulder at her with wiggling eyebrows, and Veronica tried not to laugh at his skinny naked limbs as he roamed around his room and rifled through his stacks of tapes. She sat up, his bed sheet lazily covering her at the waist. Her hair was a mess, she realized, gingerly touching the top of her head, her hair a little crunchy from mousse. When JD found the tape he was looking for, he bounced back into bed, making the whole mattress shake, both of them giggling. Then he started kissing her, and Veronica forgot about the movie entirely until he left her hanging, holding the tape in front of her. Sighing, she took it from him to inspect, since he seemed so eager. On the cover was a grotesque image of a man, his skin rippling and thick-veined, his eyes white, and his face contorted with pain. Otherwise the image was a blank, black void, aside from the title and tagline. Eyebrow raised, she looked at JD and he looked back with a bright, expectant expression. 

“Scanners?” 

Laughing, he took back the tape. “I know it’s not what they’re usually showing at the Atlas, but I think you’ll like it. You liked The Fly, right?” 

Veronica nodded, but in truth, not really. It had a good story, way better than most movies, and it was even kind of romantic. But the special effects were stomach-churning. 

“This is like that, just not so...uh, conventional. I’m telling you, Cronenburg is a genius.” JD grinned up at her from where he was lounging on his bed, and he looked so boyishly cute in that moment that she kissed him, instead of telling him she had no interest in seeing Scanners whatsoever. 

When they stopped, she sighed and said, “It sounds like an enchanting evening, but I’ll have to take a rain check. I’m going to a party with Heather this weekend. A ‘real rager’, ‘way better than the Remington party’, she says.” JD squinted, looked pensive, the way he always looked when Heather’s name came up. He was now picking at a corner of the tape’s cover, parting layers of cardboard. When he spoke, he tried to sound like he wasn’t bothered. “I ah, thought Heather was over taking you to frat parties. You know, after you gave her shoes a puke bath.” 

Shrugging, Veronica said, “I thought the same thing, but then she dragged me to the mall saying she was tired of all my clothes and I needed more for this party”. They both rolled their eyes. “Well, whatever,” JD said, rolling onto his back. “If drinking piss-beer with college meatheads is more important than Scanners, Scanners can wait.” He smiled sardonically up at her, and Veronica groaned and rolled on top of him, the smooth warmth of skin-to-skin still sending a little electric thrill through her. “JD, it’s not like I _want_ to go…I just…_have_ to.” 

“I know. All part of the contract, I guess.” His expression was soft as he looked at her, and he drifted his fingertips through her hair, stroking some of it back. “Just kinda bites to be playing second fiddle to Heather Chandler.” Veronica covered his mouth with her hand, looked down at him. 

“You are _not_ second fiddle. I’ll probably think about you the whole time. But she’s excited about this party and I don’t want to disappoint her.” She released her grip over his mouth, and realized as she’d been talking, he’d been pulling her closer, his arms around her waist, one hand lovingly cupping her behind. 

“You’re perfection.” JD said. “I’m not worried about Heather, not really. She wants to tug you around because she thinks she owns you, but I know you’re mine. And I’m yours.” Veronica’s heart fluttered, and they went back to kissing.

With their tongues moving in sync and her naked body draped over his, JD was getting hard again and as she was using her hand on him, pumping him slowly and drawing out grateful groans from his throat, her eyes opened and she turned her head, letting him smother her neck with his mouth, his hands roaming her figure, gripping her hips. Her gaze rested on his bedside clock, and she groaned. Taking it as an invitation, JD started stroking between her legs, and she gasped. “Mnph...JD, stop!” 

Instantly, it stopped, and he was looking up at her with loving concern. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” She laughed. 

“No, you didn’t hurt me! But it’s late, I gotta motor.” JD moaned in protest as she rolled off of him and sat up, looking for her underwear and her skirt. He reached for her, pulling playfully at her waist. “Call her, tell her you’re having dinner here,” he begged. 

“Not gonna fly, she wants me home tonight. And I can’t go to that stupid party if I’m grounded.” She stuffed her bra in her book-bag and threw on her sweater. Untangling from her boyfriend’s arms, she finally got out of bed. 

“Mm, I’ll just come visit you tonight, then,” JD said, watching her through a lock of dark hair that had fallen out of his eyes. 

“Homework.” 

“Well, then…” He puffed his cheeks. “I’ll just have to admire you from a distance, I guess.” Veronica snickered, reached out to ruffle his hair, which he hated. Shifting her bag to her shoulder, she said, “How about I call you?” 

“Okay, call me. I’ll wait forever.” 

-

Later, on the phone, Veronica heard JD's breath hitch, then the words came tumbling from him. "Listen, Veronica, I know you'll be there with Heather but...I'm just saying, you're a pretty girl and you're _my_ girl, and I know you're tougher than you look, but guys are drooling cavemen and I can't imagine they get any better with higher education...I, what I'm trying to say is, if anything goes south...just call me, okay? I don't care where I need to go, I'll get there if you need me."

Veronica, sitting with her knees to her chest in bed, toes peeking from the frayed edges of her childhood pajamas, felt a shield of love drape around her, its weight comforting and strong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for taking a million years! I didn't know where to go next with this idea but I have a plan now! Thank you for your patience.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos are beloved and feedback is always appreciated!


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